


give in to me

by hillsandvalleys



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Gaslighting, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Praise Kink, musk kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillsandvalleys/pseuds/hillsandvalleys
Summary: Dirk's been feeling out of it. Jake proposes a solution.
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	give in to me

**Author's Note:**

> please mind the tags!! this is gross, and while it might read as dubious consent or maybe even consensual at some points, it is very much noncon/manipulation. also, i didn't wanna clog the tags with every little thing in here but if you have any questions about content feel free to drop a comment! 
> 
> title is yanked out of the context of ricky montgomery's song "get used to it." happy reading!

When Dirk wakes up, he can’t find his shades. His searching hand knocks a stack of comic books off of Jake’s nightstand, but the familiar plastic is nowhere to be found, even when he sits up to peer onto the cluttered carpet. 

“Shit,” he mutters. He knows, logically, that he probably just left them on the bathroom counter or something, but there’s a sinking feeling in his chest telling him that he’s not going to be able to find them.

Over the last few weeks, Dirk has been losing… a lot of shit. His favorite water bottle, his third favorite pair of socks, and the extra pillow he brought from his apartment for his month-long “sleepover” on Jake’s planet have all disappeared, and no matter how hard he or Jake look, there’s absolutely no sign of them. It’s unsettling to Dirk, to say the least. He’s not exactly what could be called “scatterbrained” by any sense of the word, and his whole thing, so to speak, is keeping a tight handle on his shit, both physical and mental, so he doesn’t know why the fuck he can’t seem to keep track of anything anymore. 

And to make things worse, it’s not just stuff that Dirk is missing: he’s losing time, too. He’ll be walking back from exploring with Jake and then suddenly be in bed with no memory of getting there. He hasn’t mentioned it to Jake since the first time, since he doesn’t want to freak him out, and he’s _trying_ not to let it freak him out, but it’s kind of freaking him out. More than kind of. 

Dirk climbs out of bed - unsurprisingly, Jake is already up - and makes his way into the bathroom, careful not to step on any of the junk littering Jake’s floor. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s going to do if his shades are missing. They’re a safety net, a guard between him and Jake when the act of being around another human being is too much, and while the AR is, of course, backed up to nearly every computer Dirk owns, Dirk’s pretty sure he’ll be miffed if his main visual sensors end up trapped under a pile of guns for a week or some shit. 

_But,_ Dirk reminds himself, _I’m not freaking out._. The shades are probably in the bathroom, and if not there, they’re probably in the kitchen, and if not there, they’re… somewhere. It’s not like they could’ve just disappeared, no matter what seems to have happened to everything else. 

The shades are not in the bathroom, the kitchen, or anywhere else that Dirk looks. He’s trying not to freak out, especially because if Jake shows up from wherever he is, Dirk’s lost his main method of hiding it, but he’s freaking out. It just doesn’t make _sense._ He never lost anything back in his apartment, which he guesses could be attributed to knowing every fucking inch of it, but he can’t figure out what the fuck it is about Jake’s place or planet or the game itself that has turned Dirk into a forgetful idiot. 

It’s fine. It’s _fine._ Maybe Jake has them for some reason, or maybe he’s at least seen them. Right. He’s seen Dirk without them before, obviously, and besides, they’re dating. Dirk can be vulnerable around him, or whatever. _It’s fine._

Unsurprisingly, Jake is watching a movie. He’s outside on one of the nearby rock formations, lying on his back with his skulltop on, the lights flashing obnoxiously but dully in the late morning light. 

Dirk holds a hand up by his forehead to cover his eyes as he walks over and gently taps Jake on the shoulder. “Hey,” he says, “have you seen my shades?” 

Jake sits up and tugs his skulltop off with a small frown that Dirk tries not to read too much into. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“My shades,” Dirk repeats. “I can’t find them anywhere, have you seen them?” 

Jake’s frown shifts into an expression that Dirk can’t quite parse. He’s still learning how to read actual people, rather than just actors, and the lines are a lot blurrier than he’d ever really expected. Well. Okay, it’s either because of that, or because Dirk doesn’t want Jake to be looking at him with pity. “What do you mean, you can’t find them anywhere?” he asks.

Dirk crosses his arms and tries not to look frustrated, since, y’know, it’ll be very fucking obvious to Jake if he does. “I mean that I’ve looked pretty much everywhere I can think of, and I have no idea where they are.” 

Jake’s face softens, and yeah, no, that’s, like, the dictionary definition of pity. “Oh, Dirk. C’mere,” he says, hopping down from his makeshift bench and taking Dirk by the hand. 

“Wait, where are we going?” Dirk asks. He hates when Jake gets cryptic like this, especially since he’s not even sure if Jake’s being cryptic or if his brain is just refusing to process his surroundings or anything in them. 

“Just over here,” Jake says, like that clears anything up, as he pulls Dirk over to the side of one of the taller mounds surrounding the little valley they’ve camped out in. “Look, see down there?” 

Dirk looks to the distant spot Jake is pointing at, almost straight down the side of the hill, and his heart suddenly feels like a pound of lead in his chest. His shades are at least twenty feet down, the temples broken off and only recognizable by their distinct shape. “What the fuck?” Dirk says, more to himself than to Jake. He knows he didn’t put them there. He _knows_ he didn’t put them there.

“You tossed them yesterday, after that row with Hal, remember?” Jake says. 

“After…” Dirk trails off. He knows he didn’t throw his shades down a hill, and he knows that he didn’t tell Jake about the stupid argument he got into with the AR, since the entire fight was the AR trying to, once again, sabotage his relationship with Jake. But - how else would Jake know? “I don’t remember doing that, though, and I don’t think I’d just - the AR’s connected to my computers anyway.” 

Jake’s hand slides out of Dirk’s grip and moves up to rub at Dirk’s shoulder, somewhere between comforting and condescending, and Dirk sternly reminds himself that it’s just meant to be comforting. Jesus. “I know, plum,” Jake says softly. “You didn’t tell me you were still forgetting things and all that hullabaloo, though, are you alright?”

“I’m - no, I didn’t just forget about this, I didn’t do it,” Dirk insists. “And I’m fine, it’s not a big deal.” 

“Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?” Jake asks. 

“I…” Dirk trails off. He can’t tear his eyes away from his shades, broken on the ground below. He _knows_ he wouldn’t have. He knows he _didn’t._ But it’s not like Jake would’ve, that wouldn’t make any sense, and there aren’t exactly any more options unless the skeleton creatures have learned concepts like stealth and, like, psychological warfare. 

Jake’s hand pats his shoulder twice, then disappears. “It’s alright, chap, why don’t you just have a sit down and I’ll go get you something to drink, okay?” 

Dirk doesn’t respond, but he lets Jake lead him over to yet another rock formation and sit him down. He … might actually be losing it. He knows he didn’t tell Jake about the fight with the AR. He knows he wouldn’t have just broken his shades and tossed them off the side of a hill. But - he also knows that he wouldn’t just lose shit, including random memories, so it’s not like him knowing things means much of anything anymore.

But it just doesn’t make _sense,_ and - Dirk takes a deep breath. Okay. He’s not going to start hyperventilating. They were just a stupid piece of plastic, he doesn’t need his shades, not having them doesn’t mean that he’s less himself or any of the stupid shit a red-tinted voice in the back of his mind is whispering. The AR is fine, most likely, definitely, he’s backed up several times over, and really, it’s not a big deal. Hell, Dirk could probably alchemize another pair if he tried. He just has to hope that he doesn’t destroy that pair, forget about it like an unstable idiot, and then ruin his boyfriend’s morning with his stupid, stupid brain. 

God. Jake doesn’t deserve this. Dirk had thought he was keeping it under control, not making Jake worry about whatever the fuck is happening with him, but evidently, that’s not the fucking case.

Jake is back, sooner than Dirk had expected, a ~~pitying~~ gentle smile on his face and a warm hand on Dirk’s shoulder. “Here you go, drink up, alright?” 

Dirk doesn’t meet Jake’s eyes as he takes the glass and tries not to think too hard about how obvious that motion is, now. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

“No problemo,” Jake assures him. He sits down next to Dirk, so close that their thighs are pressing together, which would normally be a lot more interesting than Dirk can really handle it being right now. 

Dirk takes a long drink of the water, wrinkling his nose slightly at the aftertaste. The water on Jake’s planet always has an aftertaste, it seems, although Dirk supposes that’s to be expected what with it neither having sat in plastic bottles for 400 years nor having been taken directly from the ocean and boiled down to something drinkable. It seems stronger than usual today, but then again, it’s not like Dirk can put all that much stock into his senses, can he? 

“So,” Jake says, gently rubbing circles in Dirk’s shoulder with his thumb. “I know this isn’t the sort of thing you’re all gung-ho about hearing, but I have to say that I’m a right sight worried about you. You haven’t been yourself lately, and what with all this faulty memory business, -”

“I know,” Dirk interrupts, “I-”

“But it’s alright,” Jake continues, like Dirk never said anything at all. Dirk frowns but stays quiet. Honestly, Jake rehearsed this whole little speech while he was getting the water, and it’s probably best to just ride it out. “To be all fair and sporting, I think it makes a good lick of sense.” 

Dirk’s frown deepens. “What do you mean?”

Jake gives Dirk another one of those small smiles, the ones that twist Dirk’s gut with the suggestion of pity and condescension, and slides his hand up closer to Dirk’s neck. Dirk shivers. “Well, jiminy Christ, Dirk, you’re on a new planet and around real-life people for the first time in your life! All that’s bound to be more than a bit overwhelming, especially for someone like you.” 

Jake’s touch abruptly feels like too much, so Dirk ducks his head to the side, casually, coolly - but of course, Jake’s hand just moves with him, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of Dirk’s neck and threading through it just this side of too roughly. “Jake,” Dirk starts, then, “wait, what d’you mean, someone like me?” 

Jake waves his free hand airily. “Don’t forget your water, dove. And well, you know, someone that spends his time worrying about a whole lot of silly shenanigans - all your machinations and whatnot, when you really ought to be focusing on other things.”

“Jake, you’re not making any fucking sense,” Dirk sighs. 

“Water,” Jake reminds him.

Dirk takes a sip and then pitches the bridge of his nose. “Look,” he says, “dude, you know I love you, and I know you’re just trying to help, but just, like, saying random shit doesn’t exactly do anything.” 

“Well, we certainly don’t have to just sit here and trade syllables all day,” Jake says. His free hand is somehow on Dirk’s thigh now, teasing at the rip that Dirk made in the knee years ago, painstakingly done so it looked neither intentional nor the product of carelessness. 

Dirk feels… less than ideal. He’s still trying to process that his shades are gone (and more specifically and that he’s the one that tossed them out), wondering what else has decided to nope the fuck out of his memory, and on top of all of that, he’s starting to feel woozy and a bit nauseous. Still, though, he knows that Jake is just trying to help, so he feels bad when he snaps, “Dude, are you coming onto me right now? I’m not really in the mood, okay, and I think your goddamn jungle house water poisoned me or something, ‘cause I kinda feel like I’m going to throw up.” 

“Poisoned you?” Jake repeats. His hands don’t move away, and they don’t stop what they’re doing. “Alright, yes, I gave you a little home remedy with that, but I don’t-” 

“Jake.” Dirk’s voice is as steady as he can make it, which is to say, nowhere near as steady as he’d like it to be. “Did you fucking _drug_ me?” 

“I put in a bit of this plant I used to chew on when I had nightmares and whatnot as a youngster, nothing serious,” Jake says. “I know you’re going through quite a lot at the moment, but getting all paranoid isn’t going to help, now is it?” 

“No,” Dirk mumbles. He drops his gaze to the glass in his hand and carefully sets it down on the ground. “Look, I - I appreciate you trying to help, but just… ask first next time, okay?”

“Right on,” Jake assures him. “Now, here, I’ve got an idea, and of course you can tell me if it doesn’t suit your fancy, but how about trying to just do something simple? I know how you get about control and success and all that, and Heaven knows how hard it is to come by anything like that these days!” 

Dirk is quiet for a beat, two, three. Something feels _wrong_ , like the air before drones passed over his apartment, but … it’s Jake. Well-intentioned, oblivious to most things Jake, who actually had a parental figure in his life, if only for a short time, and who isn’t going completely fucking insane. Another beat. 

“What are you suggesting?” Dirk finally asks. He tries to ignore the feeling in his gut that Jake would’ve barreled forward even without his permission.

Jake’s hand moves a couple of inches higher on Dirk’s thigh. “Tell you what,” he says, “being Dirk Strider seems like an awful lot of work for one fellow, isn’t it? All that work to be so collected and cool - you could let it down, you know. In fact, starshine, I have a hunch that I already know what it is that you really want!”

Dirk closes his eyes. The wooziness he felt earlier is really setting in now, making it easy for him to lean to the side and press his weight against Jake. “Still not making sense, dude, what do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” Jake asks, in a tone that Dirk can’t quite convince himself isn’t patronizing. “You told me just the other night, chap, don’t you remember?” 

“The other - ?”

“Just the other night, I’d reckon two or three days, but time does seem to blur a bit here. Well. Obviously you’d know all about that, but I’m not meaning to send this conversation off the tracks. Let’s see, what was it that you said? That you’re inclined to be out of control for a bit, as it were, stop being the great Mr. Strider and be, ah - well, pardon me for speaking so bluntly, but I do think that the word you used was a ‘toy?’ Just a brainless little thing, right?”

Dirk’s first instinct is to blanch, to freak out and push Jake away - but he doesn’t move. His arms are heavy, and his mind hasn’t stopped reeling since he first looked over the edge of the hill and saw his shades broken below. He doesn’t remember telling Jake about… that. He hasn’t told _anyone_ about that. But how else would Jake know?

“I-” Dirk starts, and then, suddenly, he’s standing in Jake’s room. The walls are as overwhelming as always, even more so without his shades, all bright posters and flashing lights, and he doesn’t remember getting here, and his legs feel strange and weak, and -

“Shh, it’s alright,” Jake says. His hands are on Dirk’s shoulders, steadying him, and his voice is soft. “Look at me, plum, you’re alright. Deep breaths. We’re going to do something easy, remember?” He pauses, chuckles to himself. “Not that you could do anything else, but you don’t have to worry about that now, doll. Just focus on me.”

Dirk tries not to think about that too hard as he forces himself to meet Jake’s eyes. They’re familiar, green, and calming, sort of, and he manages to steady his breathing enough to ask, “What are you - what are we doing?”

“What you want,” Jake says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Lift your arms up for me?” 

Before Dirk can try to move on his own, Jake’s hands slip from his shoulders to grip his biceps, lifting them for him. “There we go, just like that,” Jake praises, and Dirk’s cheeks flush. He didn’t even do anything, but … he did something _right,_ and that feels better than he’d prefer to think about.

Luckily, Dirk doesn’t have time to think before Jake’s hands are at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up and over his head, murmuring, “Here we go, there you are,” and Dirk shivers in the sudden cold.

He feels, distantly, like he should protest. Tell Jake to at least wait until he’s not feeling unsteady on his feet because of whatever weird jungle plant Jake put in his drink, that this is probably the sort of thing they should have a conversation about before jumping into the deep end headfirst. 

But … Jake knows what he’s doing, at least more than Dirk. Jake is trying to “help you, Dirk, that’s all, I’m just giving you what you said you wanted,” the words soft in Dirk’s ear as his hands open Dirk’s belt and slide it out of the loops. 

“Jake,” Dirk says quietly, unsure of what, if anything, he wants to follow it up with. 

Jake gives him a wide smile as he undoes the button of Dirk’s jeans. “There you go, just focus on me,” he encourages. “Isn’t that so much easier than trying to solve every confounded problem any of us have ever stumbled into?”

Half of Dirk’s brain doesn’t want to admit it, but the half apparently in charge nods, the motion small but painfully obvious with how close Jake is. 

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but … there it is!“ Jake gives him another bright smile. “And you know, that gave me a right banger of an idea! You’ve clearly got the non-verbal stuff downpat, so why don’t you try not talking for a while? Take some of the pressure off and all that.” 

Dirk knows he should say no or at least work out some sort of non-verbal cue, but - he nods. He can do that. He can do something right, he’s fine, he’s not going crazy if he can just do this and make Jake happy and do what he’s “honestly meant to do,” Jake says. “I mean, just look at you! Slipping right into place, really, now lift your leg up.” 

Dirk does, reaching behind himself to hold onto a bedpost for balance in a way that makes his face flush red and embarrassed. He’s _Dirk Strider_ , he shouldn’t need help to stand on one leg, but he wavers as Jake swiftly tugs his jeans and boxers off. 

“There we are, there we are,” Jake says. His eyes rake over Dirk, and without really thinking about it, Dirk holds his hands in front of himself in a vain attempt to cover his half-hard dick. Sure, Jake’s seen him naked before, but he’s never looked at Dirk like this, somewhere between the way he looks at a skeleton before going in for the kill and the way he looks at a shiny, newly-alchemized gadget before tossing it aside. 

Jake’s face twists into a small frown. “Now, now, you know better than that,” he says. “Wrists behind your back, let me see you.” 

Dirk’s face flushes even redder, but he does what Jake says, dropping his gaze to the floor so he doesn’t have to see Jake’s face as he steps in close, gets a rope out of his sylladex, and ties Dirk’s wrists together behind his back in a tight knot. 

“Good,” Jake says, softly, and Dirk bites back on a whine. He doesn’t know if that would count as talking, but he doesn’t want to - he _can’t_ disobey Jake, can he? He wants to be good. He wants to do this right. 

Jake steps back in front of Dirk and looks at him again, slowly, his arms folded and his expression unreadable. Dirk squirms, the heaviness in his limbs making him feel a bit like he’s moving through molasses, and keeps his eyes on the ground. 

Jake hums to himself, appraising and not entirely pleased, and Dirk’s heart drops in his chest. Can he not even do _this_? Jake is making it so easy for him to just do so something right, something that he wants to do, and he can’t even -

Dirk inhales sharply when Jake suddenly steps forward and flicks his cock with a finger. “We’ll have to lock this up, won’t we? Heaven knows it wouldn’t be well and proper for you to have this working, not when your job is to make me feel good, now would it? But - later, later, I’m not wasting the time when I’ve got you all pretty here for me, that would just make me a fool.”

Jake gently takes Dirk’s chin in his hand and tilts it up, catching Dirk’s eyes with his own and holding them captive. Dirk’s breath is coming quick and shallow again. He doesn’t know if he’s turned on, nauseous, or both, but he thinks he might be about to cry. “Oh, Dirk, shh, it’s alright, there we are,” Jake murmurs, petting Dirk’s hair with his free hand. “I know you’re new to all this, but just listen to me and we’ll figure it out, okay? I know you just want to be the best that you can for me, don’t you?” 

Dirk forces himself to get his breathing under control again, slow and steady as he can make it. He’s fine, he’s with Jake, Jake is taking care of him and helping him to do something right, so he nods, closes his eyes and leans into Jake’s touch.

“That’s it,” Jake says. He pets Dirk’s hair for a just moment longer, and then his hands disappear. “Alright, let’s not just stand around all day jib-jabbering, now, let’s get this rodeo off to the races.”

Dirk blinks his eyes open with a mixture of apprehension and excitement, and his heart flips in his chest when he sees Jake shucking off his shirt. He stands stock-still, afraid that moving will either disappoint Jake or cause his unsteady legs to send him tumbling to the ground, waiting for Jake to kiss him or take his shorts off and tell Dirk to blow him or - 

Jake steps forward and lifts his left arm, bending his elbow and placing his hand behind his head so that his armpit is just a few inches away from Dirk’s face. Dirk can smell it from where he’s standing, all thick, sour sweat and musk that has probably been accumulating for at least three days, a few glistening drops even beading in the dark, coarse-looking hair. He doesn’t move.

“Well?” Jake arches an eyebrow. “Go on, clean me up. I’m sure this isn’t rocket science.” 

Dirk feels frozen to the spot in more ways than one. Objectively, this is gross and more than a little humiliating. Jake smells like shit and Dirk’s head is starting to hurt, but … Jake looks expectant to the point of bordering on impatient, and Dirk doesn’t know what he’ll do if he lets Jake down, if he can’t do something right, and honestly? At least this is, in theory, easy. This is a ticket out of juggling the social dynamics that keep him up at night, out of worrying whether he’s going completely insane, and Dirk can’t bring himself to turn that down when it’s right in front of him and when he has a feeling that he doesn’t have a choice.

So he leans in, slowly, bending at the waist and wishing he had his arms for balance, and licks a long, slow, stripe up Jake’s armpit. It tastes almost as bad as it smells, thick and cloying and somehow already all over Dirk’s mouth, but Jake says, “There you go, just like that,” and Dirk’s leaning back in before he can think too hard about it.

Jake’s hand slides into his hair, not quite pulling it but keeping Dirk firmly in place with his nose pressing into Jake’s skin as he does his best to lick up the sweat. Dirk tries not to think about how hard he is, from smelling Jake like this, the sweat on his nose and cheeks and tongue and lips and very nearly the only thing he can focus on. 

“Good,” Jake keeps murmuring, soft and encouraging. “Jiminy, you can’t get enough, can you?”

Dirk’s cheeks burn. He doesn’t want to look at Jake right now, so he buries his face as deep as it’ll go in Jake’s musk and licks harder, dragging his tongue through the coarse hair until all he tastes is skin.

“I’d daresay that about does it,” Jake says, and without any further warning, he grabs Dirk’s hair with his other hand and jerks him over to his right armpit, keeping his face just an inch away so that Dirk will have to lean in by himself. “Alright, this one, now.”

Dirk squeezes his eyes shut tighter and closes the gap, dragging his open mouth over Jake’s skin and wincing at the fresh wave of his sour scent. 

“Good, Dirk,” Jake murmurs. “See, isn’t this so much easier than all of that hullabaloo you were always trying to do before? You really do seem to have been meant for this.” 

Dirk makes a soft, unintentional sound against Jake’s skin. Maybe Jake’s right. No, scratch that, Jake is definitely right. He should’ve known that he couldn’t be in charge, couldn’t fix everything, couldn’t hold everyone together or win the game or even be a competent fucking person on his own. He honestly just doesn’t know how long it took him to realize. 

“Shh, shh,” Jake reminds him. His hand pets down the back of Dirk’s hair briefly, and then his right arm is coming down over Dirk’s head, pushing Dirk’s face completely into his armpit and giving him almost no room to breathe.

Dirk whines in the back of his throat and prays Jake didn’t hear it, focuses instead on trying to open his mouth wider, to do better, to breathe anything but the thick scent of Jake’s sweat. His arms jerk uselessly and sluggishly behind his back. 

“ _Shh_ ,” Jake repeats, firmer, his free hand moving around to press Dirk’s wrists against his back. “Finish up and I’ll let you out.” 

Dirk swallows hard, keeping his eyes firmly shut, and licks at Jake’s armpit like he’s desperate for it, which isn’t so much a simile as a simple fact. Every shallow breath he gets in is nothing but the sour, musky scent, and his head aches with it. He’s still inexplicably and frustratingly hard. 

Finally, just as Dirk is starting to wonder about things like passing out, the pressure on his head and wrists disappears, and Jake pulls him back by his hair. “Good,” Jake praises, and Dirk melts just a bit. 

Jake reaches out and tilts Dirk’s chin up with one hand, surveying him once more. “You look good, pet,” he finally concludes. The nickname runs through Dirk like a shock, and he doesn’t protest or struggle when Jake’s thumb slides up and tugs his bottom lip down. Now that Jake’s scent isn’t overwhelming his senses, Dirk is once again aware of his limbs and the heaviness still weighing them down. “There we are,” Jake says, “alright, why don’t you get down on your knees for me?” 

Dirk closes his eyes and slowly opens them again to find Jake staring at him expectantly. He’s not sure if he _can_ , not without his arms for balance or his usual coordination, and he really, really doesn’t think he could handle falling in front of Jake right now. Fuck, honestly, Jake would probably just use that as an excuse to make Dirk lick his shoes and while that’s not, like, the most unappealing thing, especially with the way Dirk’s dick is throbbing from everything that’s happened already, it’d be more humiliating than Dirk thinks he could handle right now. 

“Dirk,” Jake says, his voice just a little sharper. “Do you need help?”

Dirk drops his gaze and nods. Well. That’s embarrassing enough in its own right, but at least Jake is offering to help, and - 

Jake’s hands are on his shoulders, broad and warm and pushing Dirk down before he can process what’s happening. He almost does fall, but he manages to catch himself on his knees, face bright red and breathing weirdly thick. 

“There, that wasn’t so tricky,” Jake says. “Well, chap, my original plan was to have you get my shorts off yourself, but to be all right and frank with you, I really don’t think you’d be able to.”

Dirk swallows hard against the sudden lump in his throat. Jesus. Jake’s right, there’s absolutely no way he’d have been able to - he probably wouldn’t have been able to get past the belt buckle even without his mind and movements all hazy - but the acknowledgment that he can’t do something Jake wanted him to do is sharp.

“But - no matter!” Jake says, continuing right along like he has no idea what effect his words are having on Dirk. He unbuckles his belt himself and takes his shorts and boxers off, tossing everything to the side without fanfare. His cock is hard and red and only inches away from Dirk’s face, and Dirk takes a deep breath. This is well-charted territory. He can do this. He _wants_ to do this. Honestly, it’s not like there’s anything else he’s good for, is there?

“Oh, bollocks,” Jake suddenly mutters. “I forgot one thing. Be a dear and wait here just a moment?”

He inflects it like a question, but Dirk knows it’s not. He watches Jake quickly step into the other room, clearly not caring that he’s naked save for his heavy, clunking boots, and briefly considers leaving. It feels like something he should be considering, at least. He knows, in the back of his mind, in red text, that he should _definitely_ be considering it. But … he can’t quite bring himself to. Despite the fact that he feels like he’s been close to tears all day and that he’s pretty sure he’s finally lost it, this - Dirk doesn’t hate this. He doesn’t hate the smell of sweat still lingering on his tongue or the burn of the rope against his wrists when he tugs at them, and he _really_ doesn’t hate the praise Jake gives him. 

So he sits and waits for Jake to come back. The room isn’t cold, thankfully, just quiet, but as the minutes pass, Dirk is starting to wonder if Jake is coming back at all, or if he’s just so fed-up with Dirk’s incompetence and general capital-s Shit that he’s flown off-planet to hang out with his actual friends and left Dirk here, defenseless and more than a little out of it. It doesn’t seem impossible, except for the fact that Jake was naked when he left. But honestly, that could’ve just been part of the ruse. Just one more thing to keep Dirk waiting for long enough for him to disappear without any hint as to where he’s gone and - 

“Are you quite alright, dove? You look like the canary that the cat ate.” 

Dirk looks up from the floor to find Jake standing over him, face contorted in a concern that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Oh,” Jake says, before Dirk can even form a response. “Oh, I see, you thought I’d left you, didn’t you? Trust me, pet, no worries there. You’ve been awfully good, and I certainly wouldn’t put that to waste, now would I? Here, open your mouth up for me.” 

Without even really thinking about it, Dirk obeys. Jake’s staying because he’s been good, and he can’t risk that changing now, so when Jake holds a glass of water with that same weird aftertaste up to Dirk’s lips, Dirk drinks. 

Jake idly pets Dirk’s hair with his free hand as he drinks, tipping the glass further and further up until it’s empty. “There we go, good,” Jake praises. “Alright, I’m sure that’s going to get to be a bit much in just a few minutes, so why don’t we go ahead and get started?”

Dirk’s not sure if it’s real or just a placebo effect, but he swears he can already feels his limbs getting heavier as Jake sets the glass down somewhere out of sight and twists his fingers into Dirk’s hair. 

Dirk opens his mouth as Jake steps closer. He thinks that he knows where this is going until Jake angles his hips up so that his dick slides up across Dirk’s face rather than into his mouth. God. His dick smells … more than a little gross, having soaked in the same dank sweat as his armpits for likely just as long, and it’s rubbing right up against Dirk’s nose and feels like it’s dripping precum onto Dirk’s hair and forehead. Dirk closes his mouth without really thinking about it and is glad he did when Jake’s balls rub up against his lips, hot and covered with a more-than-fine layer of hair. 

“Alright now, open up,” Jake says, because of course he does, his voice low and direct. “I shouldn’t have to explain this to you again, should I? Clean me up.” 

There’s a part of Dirk’s brain that wants to resist, but he’s opening his mouth before it can do so. Jake’s balls are hot and heavy on his tongue, covered in the sweat that Dirk is pretty sure is the only thing he’ll be able to taste for a week now, but Dirk licks at them in a way that could almost be described as reverent by someone that Dirk wishes could be described as wrong.

The static in Dirk’s brain grows heavy and overwhelming to the point where the only thing he can really focus on is Jake. Jake above him, his hand tight in Dirk’s in hair, his balls sagging onto Dirk’s tongue and his dick rubbing sweat and pre all over Dirk’s face. The praise he murmurs is sparing, just enough to keep Dirk desperate for more, trying harder, drooling sloppily as he mouths and sucks at Jake’s balls. 

Time is as unreliable as it’s come to be over the past few weeks, but it feels like it’s been ages and no time at all when Jake’s hand tugs Dirk backwards. Dirk goes willingly, his mouth hanging half-open despite the way his jaw aches and Jake’s grip keeping him upright more than his limbs. He feels loose and unsteady. His fingers wiggle when he tells them to, but there’s a lag between the thought and the motion, his brain feels like it did when he would wake up at three am to the sound of the waves crashing, and Dirk can’t say that he really minds at all.

“You still with me, love?” Jake asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer before he pulls Dirk close again, this time _finally_ shoving his cock into Dirk’s mouth. 

Dirk groans, softly, not loud enough for Jake to reprimand him, and lets his jaw go as lax as he can make it. Jake’s dick tastes like every other part of him, sour and heady, and he’s not wasting any time on the pretense of watching out for Dirk’s gag reflex. Both of his hands are gripping Dirk’s hair now, just pushing and pulling him back and forth like he’s nothing more than a fleshlight. 

Dirk lets him. Not that he could do anything else, that is, but - he keeps his jaw lax and his limbs limp and lets Jake fuck his mouth. Drool slides out of his mouth and down past his lips, his chin, dripping down onto the floor. He doesn’t have the presence of mind to care or do anything about it. 

“Good, that’s a good toy for me,” Jake is saying. “There you go, just take it. That’s it.” 

Dirk lets out another quiet groan and only realizes that he does once the sound reaches his ears. Jake’s thrusts get rougher, faster, his grip on Dirk’s hair moving far, far past the threshold of comfort, and he comes with a drawn-out moan. 

Come splatters into Dirk’s mouth and directly down his throat, and Jake pulls him off just in time for the last few sticky ropes to land directly across the bridge of Dirk’s nose and start to slide down his cheek. 

“Christ, pet,” Jake says softly. He lets go of Dirk’s hair to tilt his chin up and smile down at him like he’s a dog that’s just performed a simple trick. Dirk thinks he might still be blushing, but the feeling of Jake’s calloused fingers against his jaw is the only thing he can really concentrate on. “At risk of flattering you too much, I have to say that this might just be the best you’ve ever looked.” 

Dirk doesn’t know what to say to that or if he could muster any words at all, so he stays silent. Jake watches his face for a moment longer before his gaze drops down to between Dirk’s legs.

“And look at that,” Jake says, “still hard. That’s quite impressive, honestly, but it’s no surprise that your body knows how to react to me, hm?”

Dirk says nothing.

“Well, you’ve been so good, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you just this once. As long as you know that this isn’t going to happen all the time,” Jake continues, wagging a finger and giving Dirk a faux-stern expression. “After all, feeling good isn’t _your_ job, now is it?” 

Dirk still says nothing. He’s trying to focus on Jake’s face, on his eyes, but he feels like he’s getting more and more out of it by the second. Later, he’ll wonder what the fuck Jake slipped him, and how much, but right now, all he has the presence of mind to do is stay quiet and jerk his hips back when the tip of Jake’s boot suddenly prods at his dick. 

Jake tuts. “Hold still, now,” he says, before pushing his foot forward again. This time, Dirk is half-prepared for the contact, so the only reaction he gives is a choked, wet noise that he doesn’t recognize. 

“Shh, shh,” Jake murmurs. He’s rubbing Dirk’s cock in earnest now, the bottom of his boot rough and dry against Dirk’s skin but giving just enough friction to pass itself off as pleasurable. Later, Dirk will hate himself a little for the way he leans his weight into Jake’s leg and humps his hips down against Jake’s boot, but that’s later. Right now, he closes his eyes and gives into it, letting the nonsense words Jake is muttering slide over him until his boot presses down at just the right moment and Dirk comes onto the floor with a soft groan. 

Jake pets over his hair with one hand as he rides out the aftershocks, then pushes his head down toward the ground. “Almost done, I promise,” he says, “but you know it wouldn’t be good to just leave a mess. Go on.” 

Dirk takes a deep breath. His body feels so heavy, like it’s asleep and just waiting for his mind to join the party, but he lets Jake push his face down and slowly lowers his tongue to the floor to lick up his own come. It’s gross and humiliating in more than a couple of ways, but all Dirk can do is focus on doing it, the bitter, salty taste joining Jake’s musk on his tongue, until Jake lets up the pressure on his head and lets him slump over onto his side. 

“Good,” Jake says, “good. I have to say - and I’m not surprised, of course, I knew you had it in you, right from the beginning - but you’re really off to a running start, aren’t you? Just a bit more practice and you’ll be golden, dove, and really, isn’t this so much easier than worrying about everything all the time?” 

And the thing is … he’s not wrong, not really, so Dirk makes no attempt to argue before he closes his eyes and lets himself pass out.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, and feel free to come say hi on twitter [@hillsnvalleyz](https://twitter.com/hillsnvalleyz) if you liked this!


End file.
